


Rubicon

by Wooingsan



Series: Based on a Twitter Poll [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: (not that ambiguous but tagging to be safe), Alpha Choi San, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Angst, Backstory, Based on a Twitter Poll, Darker Vibes, Dubious Ethics, Enemies to Lovers, High Heels, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Stalking, Jewel Thief AU, Jewel Thief Choi San, Jewelry, Lingerie, M/M, Marking, Moral Ambiguity, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jung Wooyoung, Paparazzi, Referenced Alcohol, Referenced Masturbation, Self-Lubrication, Shower Sex, Sugar Baby Jung Wooyoung, The Art of Seduction by Jung Wooyoung, Touch-Starved, Wooyoung’s sexy robe gets its own tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooingsan/pseuds/Wooingsan
Summary: For one, brief moment, the alpha looks up. His gaze flickers to catch on Wooyoung’s diamond choker through the mirror.Then it's gone and he’s smiling at the stilettos like he never looked away.It’s then that Wooyoung realizes he’s been the target all along.ORWooyoung is a kept omega, a sugar baby who rakes in jewelry but not enough action. San is an alpha with his own definition of moral obligation.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: Based on a Twitter Poll [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094444
Comments: 25
Kudos: 175





	Rubicon

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again friends!  
>   
> Originally, I had two very different ideas for how to treat the last Twitter poll. After looking at the rough drafts of each my beta reader initially preferred [Omega-3's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28353291), which is why I went with that concept. But now that both are completed they prefer Rubicon. Meanwhile, I feel the opposite: started out preferring Rubicon and now like Omega-3's. So I'll be very, very curious to see what you all think! 
> 
> This time I tried to write two-sided Enemies to Lovers. That got me a darker vibe, softer smut, and a more complicated plot. I know it's only 8.5k, but it is rather plot/concept heavy to emphasize the mutual Enemies to Lovers dynamic. It also capitalizes on the non-traditional A/B/O tag, which means there is discussion of top/bottom dynamics as it relates to rank.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> EDIT: Rubicon Woo was the subject of [GORGEOUS fan art!](https://twitter.com/_renazz/status/1355331301608353796?s=19) He's beautiful and sensual and I love him. Credit to the amazing @_renazz on Twitter -give them a follow!

The alpha is always there, _around_ , wherever Wooyoung’s sugar daddy brings him. Wooyoung sees him passing out mille feuille on a brass platter at this month’s charity gala. He sees him with his sleeves rolled up refueling golf carts at the country club. He sees him tacking fliers of lost dogs on bulletin boards at Salon Song’s, at the florist, at the Starbucks in the bottom of his victorian high-rise. 

Wooyoung would like to say it’s just because he’s got one of those faces you think you see everywhere, but that would be a lie. He’s got the face of a gumiho and an aura to match. Wooyoung _knows_ it’s the same guy. 

The man’s stalking Wooyoung’s celebrity sugar daddy, but when the omega brings it up to him, he acts like he doesn’t care. Just paparazzi, or a fan. Happens all the time.

Wooyoung would _really_ like to say he sees him on the surveillance footage each time a new item is stolen from his exorbitant jewelry collection, but he _can’t_. Because he isn’t there - no one is. No proof of a thief, no proof of any kind of foul play. Doesn’t matter if it went missing at 2AM or early afternoon. There’s just never any evidence. So Wooyoung’s sugar daddy has started to think he’s making it up. He tells Wooyoung that he must be _forgetful_ and _irresponsible_ and probably just left his jewelry in some shoebox in the closet or in his velvet clutch or in the kitchen drawer with the knives. His omega wants to spit at the accusation. He hates being ignored, but without proof, there’s nothing he can do. The sugar daddy appreciates him as arm candy _only_. 

And Wooyoung - Wooyoung is livid. 

He’d talked to Yeosang about it at Sunday brunch. Petits four in hand, Yeosang told him that if he ever lost any jewelry Jongho wouldn’t hesitate to send out a search party, and if it couldn’t be found, would do his best to console him. It had only happened once - Yeosang was _careful_. But when the omega cried, his alpha curled up with him on the couch and kissed his tears away. 

Wooyoung had cried, once, but only out of frustration at not being believed. No one had cuddled him.

That’s the problem with money, Wooyoung thinks. When something is easy to replace, why bother to listen?

Then again, Yeosang wasn’t contracted to Jongho. They were actual lovers.

There was no love in Wooyoung’s relationship. No feeling it, no making it. No making anything but good gossip material on the fronts of trashy magazine covers and the national celebrity rag. Wooyoung played the part of omega number three: visuals. He was traded out with two others. Presumably they each served a purpose, his being face. He’d say he didn’t mind the low expectation and high financial reward but it made dating a bitch. Everyone always thought he was spoken for. 

\-----

He sees the alpha again at Stuart Weitzman. He’s dressed all in black like he’s one of their employees. Wooyoung’s sugar daddy is in the Bulova two stores over, and Wooyoung wonders why this alpha is here, not over there stalking the important guy. Maybe he misjudged the depth of their relationship, thinking they would shop together. That’s a laugh. 

Wooyoung stares at the crisp wall of pumps, trying not to let the alpha know he’s made note of his presence. It doesn’t matter though, when a calm, clear voice calls, “Hello.”

The alpha stands facing him, arms behind his back, with a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. 

Wooyoung doesn’t run. He lets the alpha sit him down on a plush buttoned bench and gently set his shopping bags to the side, the ones his sugar daddy won’t carry for him. Publicity doesn’t require _that_ much effort, apparently. The alpha asks which design he’d like to try on. Wooyoung points at one randomly. The alpha smiles again and whisks into the back. How can he actually work here? The beta behind the register doesn’t bat an eye. The one reaching up to show off a pair of flats doesn’t either. How can he actually work here, and there, and everywhere they always seem to be?

The alpha returns with his heels: red, patent, with an ankle strap boasting a dainty gold buckle. He helps bunch Wooyoung's leggings up at the calf, fingers brushing over ankle bones to ensure the entirety of each shoe is visible when Wooyoung stands and sways his hips back and forth in the mirror, taking in the way they sculpt his behind. That's how he judges a good stiletto - by his ass. It's full and visible under the short hem of his faux fur bomber jacket. Wooyoung expects the alpha to be staring at it, but he’s not. He’s still smiling at the damn shoes. “They look wonderful, sir. The cut of the quarter perfectly emphasises your ankle pitch.”

Wooyoung hums, eyes locked on the alpha's reflection. “Do they?”

For one, brief moment, the alpha looks up. His gaze flickers to catch on Wooyoung’s diamond choker through the mirror. Then it's gone and he’s smiling at the stilettos like he never looked away. 

“Like they were designed for royalty.”

It’s then that Wooyoung realizes he’s been the target all along.

\-----

The thief just slipped in through the balcony. How the patio door had been unlocked, he doesn’t know.

Wooyoung knew he would come tonight, knew that slip up in the shoe store was enough to tempt him. He could feel the magnetism from the alpha after being so close to his jewelry. So Wooyoung had set a trap in his apartment because he was _convinced_ that his stalker and his thief were one and the same. Fresh from a shower, he’d taken the time to shave, to lather and rinse, to massage butters and oils and steam creams into his supplicity so he would glow in the moonlight. The lingerie was applied just as carefully. The his blonde hair was dried, parted, swept off his cheekbones where highlighter settled instead. He prided himself on his perfect, consistent cat eye, the one the daytime e-news hosts said paired sensuously with his blown out red lip. Who was he to argue? 

Finished with makeup, he donned his favorite hand-made sheer robe that tied at the waist, the long sleeves and long hem edged by endless amounts of gathered tulle. Then he added dangling garnets to his ears and the heels he’d bought from the alpha. He topped it all off with two fat ruby rings: a pair. 

He glitters, red and gold.

There will be no lights on in his apartment tonight. The alpha would need to think him asleep before entering. Wooyoung trusts that his outfit and the art of seduction will be enough to set his plan in motion. 

He’d set up new cameras in the bedroom. He's sure the alpha already mapped out the existing security system - he’s snuck into Wooyoung’s flat at least six times, making off with more precious jewelry than the omega cares to admit. He fumes just thinking about it, about the fact that his sugar daddy can believe him _that_ irresponsible.

Not only is this alpha stealing jewelry, but he’s causing a riff between Wooyoung and his benefactor. If the thief costs him his relationship someone will have hell to pay.

The thief is soundless. Wooyoung can’t track him moving through rooms. But once the sliding door clicked shut it was only a matter of seconds. 

Wooyoung’s laid out on the couch. Legs extended along the cushions and one elbow resting on the arm, he swirls a pony glass of limoncello. 

The couch lays in a patch of moonlight. As soon as the shadowed figure slips around the corner, it freezes. Wooyoung would be hard to miss, dressed in scarlet and draped over the furniture like an expensive throw. He tosses back the last swig of liqueur and tilts the glass by the stem, watching the crystal throw prisms onto his robe then the floor. Briefly, he wonders if the alpha thinks he didn’t notice. He must be wearing scent blockers and he’s pressed to the wall. It would be a fair assumption, if he thought the omega hadn’t figured out his identity. 

Wooyoung lazily passes the glass to the side table. Playing with his dangling earrings like he’s adjusting, he rolls his neck side to side as if he has a crick, as if he’s tense, as if he could use some big alpha hands to massage out the stress under his skin. Wooyoung crosses one leg over the other, allowing the robe to split and show off generous amounts of upper thigh.

Even if he can’t get the alpha’s face on camera, maybe he can get his DNA in the sheets.

“What are you doing in the corner, alpha?”

Wooyoung’s voice is soft, but it breaks the traffic-numb silence like a falling shelf. The thief remains motionless, still a shadow. Every time Wooyoung blinks he thinks it will be gone.

“I knew you would come. It’s only fair I get the chance to meet the man that’s stealing from me, no?” Wooyoung recrosses his legs, rolling his shoulders to show off luminate skin. “Not only that, but you’re stealing from my alpha. I think that’s a little rude, don’t you? At least introduce yourself. I imagine burglarizing right under our noses would be so much more gratifying.”

Silence, like the shadow can’t believe it’s being spoken to, like it’s deciding whether to swallow Wooyoung’s confrontation or take it head on.

The omega grows flustered. He’s not used to being ignored, especially not when he's got his extra plumping lipstick on-

“Is he?” 

Wooyoung jumps. 

Until that moment it had all been a dream. Wooyoung could have woken another day only to be convinced that he was imagining things. 

But a voice is reality. It’s startling. 

He’s struck with the realization that he’s half naked and alone with the man who robs him. No one even knows.

“Is he really?” The voice asks again, dark like his silhouette.

“Is who?”

“That man. Is he really your alpha?”

Wooyoung stares at the shadow. “What else would he be?”

A pause. 

Then, “You’re not the only omega, you know.”

“I’m well aware.”

“I’m sure you are,” the voice drops, “because I’ve never smelled that man’s sex on you.”

The omega inhales sharply.

The shadow steps forward, away from the wall.

Wooyoung’s heartbeat doubles. He wants the thief to reveal more.

“What do you do with my jewelry, Alpha?” 

He doesn’t get corrected. So the thief _is_ an alpha. Wooyoung knows who it is, he _knows_.

"Some of it I keep, some of it I sell back to him. Depends on how easy it is to replace."

“What?”

“Do you know how many sugar babies that man has? It’s not two or three. It’s seven, eight. He forgets to whom he gives which gifts, ends up buying you all the same things so if he slips up and mentions a specific bracelet, it won’t matter. For example, remember that pretty jade ring that went missing last month? Well, you should expect it back on Tuesday at the Park’s holiday party. He’s probably going to give it to you in the backyard by the barbeque. He wants you to wear your white dress, the off-shoulder. Your collarbones do look pretty in it, I must say.” 

He takes another step closer. He’s further from the window so even when he steps into the cut of moonlight all that’s illuminated are his shoes and the bottoms of his legs. Noise reducing sneakers, oversized black cargo pants - the kind with many pockets and cinched hems. Good for sneaking around. 

Wooyoung whispers, “How do you know all this?”

Another step closer and Wooyoung can see the outline of his thighs, hips, his trim, trim waist. The pants close at the top with a thick woven belt. His shirt is skin-tight, tucked in, emphasizing the dips of his abdomen. 

“I work a lot of jobs.” 

Finally, he steps into the moonlight. 

Wooyoung gasps.

It’s _him_.

It’s his platinum-cut jawline, the bangs that fall thick and heavy over his temple, the brow that arches as he watches Wooyoung with those sharp, sharp eyes.

“I knew it,” Wooyoung breathes. He sits up, hands falling astride the cushions to support him.

The thief nods. “You did.”

“You knew I caught on?”

“Of course,” he smiles. “You’re very smart, Wooyoung-ssi. I would expect nothing less.” 

Wooyoung’s omega preens. He is smart, and he knew he was right, and this alpha, this _thief_ can even acknowledge him as such. He’s smart and he caught his challenger. He’s been right all along. Sated, Wooyoung sighs. Now that he’s won this portion of the game his confidence blooms. 

The thief keeps coming, closer and closer until he’s right in front of Wooyoung. Then he drops down to sit on his haunches.

He reaches out to run his uncovered fingers through the drapes of Wooyoung’s sheer robe. The omega finds it odd that he’s not wearing gloves. Why wouldn’t a thief wear gloves? The thief looks up at him again, fingers stroking near the opening of the fabric. “May I?” 

Wooyoung’s breathing is too sporadic to answer. Instead he nods. 

The alpha rumbles. 

Then the hand slips through the folds of Wooyoung’s dressing gown. Eyes on the omega’s, he retrieves Wooyoung’s crossed leg and stretches it out before him. Fingers trail down his calf the way they did earlier, in public at the shoe store like it was nothing, like they had no relationship. Like a transaction, like they weren’t criminal and victim caught in a cycle of give and take. His thumb traces over the buckle of Wooyoung’s stiletto before he brings the tip of the patent leather to his lips, to kiss.

“These really are fit for royalty.”

Wooyoung exhales shakily. He didn’t know he was holding it in. The alpha pulls back, looks up at him, and moves to kiss the leather again. 

“What are you really after?”

“You, now.”

“I don’t have any money,” Wooyoung whispers.

“I know, pretty omega,” the thief says into his ankle. “That’s what he’s for, not you.”

“Then I’ve nothing to offer you.”

“No,” the alpha murmurs, glancing up. “But I’ve got something to offer you.” 

The omega shivers. Eyelids carefully lowered to feign disinterest, Wooyoung watches lips trail up his calf. “Is that so?”

“Mm. Since I borrow from you, it’s only fair that I lend you something in return. I can’t give you diamonds, but I can offer a different kind of ornament: a few love bites, purple and blue. Jewel tones are your signature after all.” The alpha wants to _mark_ him, like stealing hasn't caused enough of a stain. “And, since I know your ‘alpha’ doesn’t care about your blue balls, I can give you something to slick up, if you’re interested.”

Wooyoung’s proud. It only took this long to seduce the alpha into pursuing something physical. He talks like it’s his idea, even, and that the poor little omega would benefit from it. Well yes, he would. In more ways than one. So if all the alpha wants is to leave some hickies, it will be an easy trade. 

“How very generous of you, alpha. Unfortunately my benefactor would be greatly displeased to find another man’s marks on my body.”

“I’ll let you pick the places. But something tells me your benefactor isn’t likely to know.” 

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s omega is high on the promise of a win. Emboldened, he slips his fingers through the alpha’s hair. Wooyoung knows the thief has the strength to stop him, to prevent him from yanking on the strands and exposing lean neck to force the position of submission, to show that the omega's in charge. But he doesn't. The alpha lets it happen. He lets the omega touch, too. 

Wooyoung leans over the thief trapped between his thighs and presses nose to neck, an act that looks like dominance but is actually a ploy to sample the tiny hints of scent shrouded by blockers his omega wants to uncover, to lick off, to clean until the alpha has no choice but to praise him like an omega _should_ be praised. 

His omega needs to calm down.

The thief beats him to realizing the air is ripening with omegan arousal, brown sugar and cayenne. His nostrils flare when he looks up at Wooyoung.

It wasn’t intentional, but Wooyoung's not upset about it. 

The goal is to seduce. And seduce, he will.

Wooyoung stands abruptly. Then he steps away, walking until he's at the other end of the couch, untying the loose wrap of his robe as he goes. The fabric slips down to his elbows. When he looks over his shoulder, the alpha’s still on the ground, watching the show. 

The robe slides all the way off to present his lingerie. 

His bralette is an off-the-shoulder with two tight little sleeves that connect to the sides of his chest. The sheer fabric runs straight across, covering the lower half of his soft pectorals. A few ribs lower and there’s a pair of hi-cut panties that cloak the bulk of his arousal, also sheer. They press lines into his full cheeks. 

The entirety of the set is studded with tiny, glittering diamonds. 

The alpha _growls_.

Wooyoung had an inkling he would like it - what with the diamonds and all.

“You want it, alpha? Gonna have to come get it,” he smirks. Then he turns on his heel and sashays away with the click of his pumps as accompaniment.

Noise-reducing sneakers whoosh against the floor, standing to follow.

In his bedroom, Wooyoung grabs the top of the chair at his makeup desk to lean over, arch his back, and check his lipstick in the mirror. The thief comes up behind him, untouching, to watch through the reflection. He looks good, standing there over Wooyoung’s shoulder. Wooyoung’s always found him attractive, but without the ambiguity of their relationship, without thinking the man is trying to stalk or sell or steal, the attraction’s even clearer. 

Truthfully, it _feels_ good to have an alpha with him. One that is actually affected by his sensuality. One that might actually want to be inside him, even though Wooyoung’s only doing this to collect proof. 

When he glances up, the thief is smirking.

“I know what you’re trying to do, pretty omega. You must be aware I’m familiar with the security if you thought adding new cameras was beneficial, but you have to be more discreet, angel. It’s easy to track things that are hooked up to the WI-FI. It was a good plan but I’m good too, and I’ve learned just how smart you are. Recording won't work, but my offer still stands.”

The alpha is close behind him, still watching. Wooyoung can feel the heat rolling off him in waves. "I accept." 

DNA is all he really needs.

The thief moves the chair so they can see the majority of their bodies in the mirror. The top of the desk is cleared save for a few lingering brushes and the MAC Ruby Woo. Grabbing the lone lipstick bullet, he encourages Wooyoung to take a step back so they can admire themselves.

The alpha thumbs off the cap of the lipstick tube. It clatters to the hardwood floor.

One arm wraps loosely around Wooyoung like he knows the omega isn’t going to run away. The alpha is right. Wooyoung won't run away. He’s thrilled. He’s hoping the thief will be careless and leave fingerprints all over. There’s probably already a set on the bullet. Wooyoung can’t help but smile.

A hand glides along his waist. “Tonight's aesthetic choices were wonderfully seductive. You truly are a master of the trade, Wooyoung-ssi. Since you look so radiant in red, would you mind if we added more? I’ll use it to suggest a few locations for my gifts, then you can choose some options after I’m done, alright?” 

Breathless, Wooyoung nods. 

“Please say it out loud, pretty omega.”

“Yes, alpha.”

“Thank you angel.” 

Starting at his wrist, the alpha presses the angled tip of the lipstick into Wooyoung’s skin. He draws a small, open circle, slow and steady so that the color paints pure. Then he moves up towards Wooyoung’s inner elbow to draw shapes there too. 

Watching him work is an out-of-body experience, like looking on from cities away. Maybe it’s the mirror, maybe it’s the dark. Maybe it’s the tactile repetition of pressing shapes into skin. Dazed, Wooyoung asks, “Why me?” 

Finishing circle three, the thief glances at him through the reflection. “Why do I choose to take jewelry from you, and subsequently from your sugar daddy, you mean?” Wooyoung nods. The thief continues, choosing to place another circle on his shoulder. “That’s easy. We’re the same, you and me. Both profiting off one man.”

The thief comes around his side in search of a new place to draw. His scent starts to peek through his blockers, indecipherable but undeniably _alpha_. 

“Now I’m nowhere near as beautiful as you angel, but your sugar daddy _does_ like a specific type. A type that you, and the public, would never see. Why do you think he isn’t interested in sleeping with you? Don’t try to tell me he is, omega, the only smell in this apartment is yours. It’s because you’re only his type for _publicity_ , the type a celebrity alpha _should_ be seen with, hm? Don’t take offence, let me explain. Imagine if this sugar daddy of yours preferred non-traditional omegas. Imagine, sweetheart, if your ‘model alpha’ lauded for his ‘traditional values’ and ‘strong sense of command’ would rather be _under_ an omega than on top of one. Would the public treat him the same way if they knew? I think not. So what can he do but proposition, with a large sum of money and a hush-hush guarantee, people that might just fit his preferences?"

The thief circles until he's in front of Wooyoung again. He steadies the omega’s waist gently so he can press lipstick against ribs. Numbly, Wooyoung thinks he should hold his breath to provide a better canvas.

“I used to work part time at Jeong Yunho's, the renowned florist shop. Nice place. One day, your famous ‘benefactor’ came in all by himself. I thought it must have been a very special occasion since he didn’t send an assistant. But then he ordered seven bouquets of red roses, completely identical, down to the filler and the gold ribbon and the card that said, ‘A gift for my baby,’ and I realized he came in person because he didn’t want anyone else to know. Remember that bouquet, Wooyoung-ssi? I didn’t know it at the time, but I made it for you. Then, low and behold, he saw me through the misty cooler glass prepping the bouvardia. Each time I looked up he was staring at me. It was only seconds before he came over once I emerged." 

Another step, another mark. 

The musk and the circling are starting to feel primal.

"Now, mind you, I was wearing my scent blockers because we were in a _flower shop_ and it’s a bad idea for alpha scents to mix with the natural, delicate aroma of foliage. So there I was, fresh-faced and smelling only like the flowers in my hand, and your benefactor made a mistake. I didn’t know. I couldn't have - he never used the word ‘omega’, not even in the contract he eventually slipped into my pocket.” 

Wooyoung gasps.

The thief drops low, kneeling in front of him. He lifts Wooyoung’s leg and settles it over his shoulder to expose the tender inner thigh. The movement releases the spice of slick that's seeped into his lingerie. The alpha must be getting a direct lungfull of it. 

Standing on one high heel, Wooyoung reaches out to balance his hands on the thief’s shoulders. His breath is quiet as he listens, enrapt. 

“I didn’t mind that he was an alpha. I thought I was lucky to get an offer. But unfortunately for both of us, your benefactor guessed incorrectly. Now I know you and I are both well aware of the fact that I’m an alpha, your smell is potent, angel, so I know you are, but your sugar daddy only realized his mistake _after_ signing a contract guaranteeing me all the things you’ve come to know and love as perks of the job - expensive gifts, a trendy flat, maybe a nice vacation or two. Right after I moved he came to my new apartment, smelled alpha in the air, accused me of sleeping around, found out I was the alpha, and pulled out his lighter to burn our contract right there. I bet the soot stains never came out of the carpet,” he laughs. 

Wooyoung’s reeling. He feels like silken white gloves trying to hold a champagne flute, afraid of slipping, afraid of grasping too hard.

Not only had his benefactor been keeping many more sugar babies than he realized, but all Wooyoung's attempts to get the man in bed, to get any special attention, to get even an acknowledgement or just a little respect came down to this. 

The benefactor had no real interest in him. None.

And, if that weren’t enough, his carelessness created a jewel thief.

The thief lowers Wooyoung’s leg, finished with scattering red across his calves and thighs, standing to round him again. His expression is darker than ever, fueled by bad memories and spiced omegan arousal.

“Where do you think that left me, Wooyoung-ssi? Homeless, jobless, and scorned. Now I don’t think that’s very fair, do you? Especially since he never asked about my rank. It was his misjudgement after all. So what did I do but what all good, scorned sugar babies do? I made a plan to exploit his weaknesses and get what I was promised.” He combs his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair, almost reverent. “He buys all his sugar babies the same things, whatever’s on the first page of the style section. That makes it easy for me to predict. Luckily he likes a bounty of omegas. Since there are seven options it makes taking bits and pieces from each of you hard to track, especially since he believes no one knows the four secret omegas exist. The best part is," he leans forward and his breath hits Wooyoung's nape, "when he finds out something’s gone, he buys it over again - _just like he would if he’d kept his last sugar baby._ So tell me. If he's still willing to buy eight of everything, how could taking one be wrong?”

Wooyoung - Wooyoung doesn’t know what to say. His heart beats in his throat.

He still thinks it’s wrong, but - he’s no longer sure why.

They're standing in the dark, only the light of refracted city night smog falling in through the window. The alpha’s features seem to contort as he circles Wooyoung in the dim glow. 

“He cheated me, Wooyoung-ssi. But because everything was hushed and he’s high profile, what could I do? No one would listen to another male alpha, and a nobody at that. But that’s how I found the rest of you. Since I’d made the bouquets I knew how many others there were - the three high-profile, sexy little vixens like you, and the four omegas-that-top no one else knows exist."

The alpha steps behind him again, slowly tracing his hands up Wooyoung’s hips to settle at his waist, lipstick held like he’s trying to decide where to place one last mark. They make eye contact through the mirror. They both look heated, half-dazed, experiencing the truth of how one man has inexplicably changed the way they walk through life: one admired, one scorned. Gazing at the man behind him, Wooyoung understands why the benefactor would have been drawn to this alpha. He’s lithe yet powerful and the perfect in-between height. He’s got watchful eyes that command and a stance that reads careful dominance, both gentle and full of zeal. His features are defined. His lips bow. 

He’s stunning. It’s true.

Wooyoung shudders, muscles rippling under the alpha’s touch, hungry for it. 

Wooyoung, too, is trying to get back at that man. 

It’s just for two different reasons.

“Now here’s where you come in. I looked at his list of omegas and learned the ins and outs of each of you - what you like, the places you frequent, how intoxicating you smell. You were last on my list, pretty omega, because you’re most often in the spotlight. But then one day I followed you to brunch with your friend Yeosang. I watched you fork down kaya toast and scatter salad like you were eating it, but you weren’t, and when a drop of iced coffee landed on your skirt you laughed it away like it didn’t matter, not there, not without the gaze of that man. Then a few tables down an alpha got on one knee and gave his last courting gift to a pretty omega, one like you, and I saw it on your face, Wooyoung-ssi. I saw how sad you were. I think that’s the moment I chose you. That was the day you let Yeosang leave first, and instead of taking a taxi home, you went into the bathroom and jerked off in the last stall, touch-starved and horny, apparently needing the thrill of public masturbation to help you get off. How often are you forced to meet with your own fist to need such a change of scenery? I know you washed your hands, angel, but your scent is strong. I smelled it on you, under your nails and in the breeze when it lifted your skirt as you walked by. Smelled your sadness and your malcontent. Smelled how good you smell to me. Unlike your benefactor, I find you very arousing. And, also unlike your benefactor, when I choose, I commit.” 

Wooyoung remembers that day. He’s starting to understand that nothing is coincidence - that the thief chose him because he recognized Wooyoung was hurting, too. He was hurting long before any jewelry went missing. 

The thefts hadn’t made Wooyoung’s relationship any worse. They just made the issues more obvious.

“I wasn’t going to bother you, sweetheart, but you’re so observant. I knew you started to catch on, and getting caught by you seemed fun. I had a feeling you would expect me tonight. At first I was going to stay away, but then I thought, ‘You’ve worked so hard for this. I want you to know that you’re clever and desirable and you’ve been right all along.’ And I think we could form a beautiful partnership, hm?” 

Hands slowly slide along Wooyoung’s waist. They’re warm. 

“You lend me your excess, I’ll lend you my body. We’ll be mutually benefitting from the ignorance of one man. We’re owed it. Both of us.” 

The alpha chooses to draw the last circle over the omega’s scent gland. 

Then he gently wraps his arms around Wooyoung’s chest so he can cap the lipstick again, leaning them both forward to place the tube back on the makeup desk. He carefully trails his fingers around the circles he’s made all over Wooyoung’s body, avoiding the lines so as not to smudge them. He’s standing over Wooyoung’s shoulder, brows dark and drawn in, appreciating. 

In this moment, all Wooyoung knows is that it feels so good to be touched.

Slowly, like fast movements will prove everything’s an illusion after all, Wooyoung lifts a hand to his shoulder and begins to trace in the empty spaces like the alpha had done. He draws forefinger and middle, gliding along his natural contours and around the red, red designs. The alpha had chosen well: the inner elbow, the dip just under the collar bone, his flank, the inner thigh. All the spots that are soft, sensitive, that pull not one by two muscles together to get more bang for his bite. Wooyoung trails his fingers up again, up until he reaches his neck, up to the highest circle and the place where the alpha’s jaw lays hot and tense against his own. But Wooyoung doesn’t stop there. Holding his breath, he lets his fingers drift onto the alpha’s face, watching his reaction through the mirror. 

His eyes close and he leans into Wooyoung’s palm. He murmurs, “So, pretty omega, where would you like your marks?” 

It feels so good to be called by an alpha, _this_ alpha, this _thief_ , the one that’s occupied his thoughts for months out of curiosity and anger. 

And this alpha wants to lay a claim to him in some way. But it doesn’t feel like a contract. It feels like an agreement. 

It feels like praise.

“Surprise me, alpha.” 

The eyes open again. They stare at his profile even though their faces are so close together until he, too, turns to look at Wooyoung through the mirror. “Whenever I needed to get off, I pictured you.”

The omega’s breath catches. High on the touch and call and heat of an alpha, Wooyoung guides the thief’s hands to the hem of his bralette. 

Belatedly, he remembers that this is all just a plan to collect DNA.

Wooyoung lifts his arms as the alpha gathers the fabric of his lingerie, dragging it up and over his chest, his shoulders, his elbows then hands, nose trailing the column of Wooyoung’s neck. When the bralette is off and the alpha drops it to the floor, that nose becomes warm breath, warm lips, and the tip of a tongue that carefully avoids his dangling ruby earrings. 

It’s stark, being almost naked and feeling exposed, but the alpha is warm, in breath and touch and appeal. He’s the hearth in the living room, the jets of the jacuzzi, the oven filled with spice, and Wooyoung’s been living in such, such cold. His arm gets a mind of its own, reaching up to slip between the soft strands of the alpha’s hair while the other hand finds its way to the alpha’s left. He laces their fingers, back of hand to palm, and guides them down to his panty line. They trace over the glittering studs, over hip bone and crest of cock, until the alpha’s hand covers him and it’s hot on his sex and by his neck and in his mind, where it’s steamy and hazy and so, so good. 

Wanting, Wooyoung reaches for his underwear. The alpha understands. He grips the elastic over both Wooyoung’s hips. 

Then he lowers, careful and slow, mouth leaving kisses along Wooyoung’s shoulder blades and every third notch in his spine. The omega’s surprised when he ignores his now uncovered ass and instead focuses on helping him step out of his lingerie. The sight of the man kneeling behind him only makes Wooyoung wetter. 

The panties are dropped too. 

The alpha ghosts over ass and wet, wet thighs, hands settling on the omega’s waist again. Wooyoung stares at him through the mirror, at this thief glazed in fever dreams and skewed morality. The alpha looks at him in-kind, and somehow that makes Wooyoung feel traditional, almost shy, like he’s being appraised on his breedability or the frequency of his heats. He’s naked save for the crimson heels, ruby baubles and blood red lip, alongside the scattering of circles the alpha laid there himself. Wooyoung thinks it interesting that the first marks the alpha put on him are made with the art of his own seduction - a gift, from his sugar daddy. Wooyoung wonders if the thief knew. If he intentionally chose a tool from the man that brings them together yet binds them separately. 

The alpha’s eyes are hooded. “How would you like it, pretty omega? Soft? Rough?”

Wooyoung turns around in his arms, laying his palms flat on the alpha’s strong chest, tensing his fingertips into the thickness just to feel. He flutters his lashes. “Can you be sweet with me alpha? It’s been a while.”

The alpha brings one of Wooyoung’s hands to his lips. He kisses his knuckles, then his ruby rings. “Of course, angel.” He picks him up by the thighs, careful to avoid the lipstick, and sets Wooyoung in the middle of the bed, his back resting gently against the pillows. 

The bed is white. White sheets, white duvet. 

Wooyoung’s very aware of the lipstick on his ass now pressed into the down.

The alpha kicks off his sneakers and places himself between Wooyoung’s thighs. He points at the first circle on his ankle, just above the stiletto strap. “Here?”

It takes Wooyoung a moment, hazy as he is, to realize the alpha is going to go through the circles one by one.

“Not there,” he says, shaking his head.

The alpha uses his index finger to blend out the mark, leaving Wooyoung’s ankle smudged with pink residue. He moves on to the next. Back of calf. “How’s this one?”

“No thanks.” 

Same finger, different smudge. 

He points just above the knee. “Here?”

“Nope.”

Red, then pink. 

The smudges spread like Wooyoung’s cayenne.

Outer thigh, inner thigh, hipbone, pelvic V. 

Blend, blend away. 

The alpha switches to a second finger.

He lifts Wooyoung’s hips to stroke fingers against bum, watching the way Wooyoung watches him. The omega becomes pliable, turning this way and that, cognizant of the growing blush staining the bed but uncaring, disinterested in anything save for the alpha’s hands where they swirl on the flesh of his cheeks. 

This continues until the alpha’s fingers grow red through the shaft and he catches on, realizing Wooyoung’s going to ask him to blend them all away, every one. Yet he continues. Wooyoung can tell he knows by the smirk and the tone that’s less serious, more appealing. His chest starts to squeeze, breathing heavier as the circles fade away and he gets closer to finding out what the alpha will do when there’s nowhere left to negotiate their exchange. 

When he’s done, when Wooyoung’s body is fully flushed with both natural and artificial red, the alpha only sits back to appraise. From perfectly fluffed hair to leather-tipped toes, the alpha admires him. 

Wooyoung’s omega, inconsolable, needs more.

He eyes the space between the alpha’s thighs. Since it’s too dark to visually confirm the alpha’s arousal and the scent blockers aren’t the cheap kind that wear off fast, Wooyoung needs physical proof to know. His omega _requires_ it. So he slips one of his feet between the alpha’s knees, digs his heel into the duvet and gently, so gently, presses the sole of his stiletto against the bulge of alpha cock. 

Hard. Just like he hoped it would be.

He hears the alpha’s sharp intake of breath. It inspires him.

Leaving his sole to graze against dick, Wooyoung drags his own hand through the creamy mess of lipstick residue. When he pulls it away, palm red, he reaches up to cup the alpha’s face. He stays still for Wooyoung, who presses his fingers into the alpha’s skin. Only whispers of color transfer onto his jaw line. 

It’s a shame all the shapes are smudged, because the alpha’s lips would look good red too.

All the shapes but one. 

Wooyoung kisses him. 

It’s then that Wooyoung knows his aroma.

He’s muskmelon sweet, ginger beer and cedarwood. It’s good. His mouth is hot like everything else about him and his lips are just as soft as his touches have been. His tongue waits for Wooyoung’s, but when beckoned, comes in quick. It’s good.

It’s so good.

Wooyoung is immediately obsessed. His omega is again compelled to lick off the scent blockers, to reveal the heady buffet that’s hidden underneath.

He frees the cock from under his shoe and wraps his leg around him instead, trying to get closer, until eventually he’s in the alpha’s lap, kissing feverishly. He pulls away to admire the alpha’s face. It’s beautiful. There’s stains across his mouth from Wooyoung’s lipstick kisses and his pupils are large, intense, waiting on him. Wooyoung’s hands find their way to the alpha’s hair and he’s so happy, he’s so _happy_ to be pressed up against a man that wants to hold him and touch him and kiss him, to make him feel like more than just a televised ragdoll.

He tilts his chin and dives back in to kiss the alpha again but it’s slower, more intent, and the alpha is nothing but obliging. His arms are wound around the omega and he barely gives him a moment to breathe. 

It’s so good.

Wooyoung tells himself it’s the quest for more DNA.

The omega disentangles and falls back onto the pillows, pulling the alpha down with him. Together they peel off his shirt then shuck down his pants and boxers and socks and the alpha’s laid bare, not even an earring to adorn his skin. He’s barefaced, hair long, and Wooyoung wants to be devoured.

He wraps himself around the alpha and rolls them over, rolls again, until the alpha’s laughing between kisses because of Wooyoung’s playful elation. He’s possessed with the need to coat the alpha in his scent, his lipstick, in the dampening puddles of sweet omega slick. They roll around on the crisp white duvet until it marbles pink in the places their bodies have pressed.

The omega stops them in the middle, content to be underneath the hovering alpha. He nuzzles his nose into Wooyoung’s skin and dusts kisses to his cheekbone and temple and brow, and the omega’s giggling and sighing and raking his fingers down the alpha’s spine because he can’t keep his hands off him, he won’t. Wooyoung’s leaking all over the bed, his want unhindered, until he rolls his hips up and the tip of the alpha’s cock gets caught at his tailbone. Wooyoung does it again, more angled, more precise, encouraging the dick to slide against his rim. The omega _moans_. Again, again, cocks frotting together, taut ballsacs caressing, until the head kisses his entry. Wooyoung claws at the alpha’s back because he needs it in all the way.

“Alpha-”

“Condoms, angel.”

Wooyoung’s face turns stricken. Then he’s embarrassed. In all his planning to catch a thief, he’d forgotten. Forgotten he’d need protection, forgotten he didn’t have any, forgotten he’d had no use for it in so, so long. He cringes. “I don’t have any. Never have anyone to use them with.”

The alpha holds the omega’s face in his hands, soothing him with nuzzles and pecks. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I brought some.”

Wooyoung freezes. “Y-you did?”

The alpha tilts Wooyoung’s head for better access to his ear. It hangs heavy with the weight of the jewels. 

“I did.”

“You knew?” A whisper, then, “You knew I would try to seduce you?”

The alpha dips his tongue into Wooyoung’s ear, following it with a breath of cool air. It makes Wooyoung shiver. “Of course. Like I said angel, you’re very clever, so I guessed you would have a plan. And if this is the direction you chose then I wanted to be prepared for you.” He moves to press kisses to the temple, one then two. “Do you want me to get them?”

Wooyoung knows what he actually means is, ‘Do you want to continue?’

If Wooyoung were petty he would say no. He doesn’t like that the alpha continues to be one step ahead of him. But maybe it’s not malicious - maybe it’s because he understands. 

He thinks about his original purpose of seducing the alpha just to get proof that would make his sugar daddy listen, to get him to realize Wooyoung’s worth more than just the image of stereotypical arm candy. That his words are meaningful and his emotions are real.

But it’s pointless. The benefactor is so preoccupied with his own desires, with setting up a life of disappointment for omegas and alphas and who knows who else, that 'finding proof' isn't even worth anyone's time.

Wooyoung realizes, then, that he’s been chasing the wrong thief all along.

He looks into the alpha’s eyes. He doesn’t know if this is a relationship of convenience or tied fates, but the alpha looks at him with the same conviction Wooyoung feels. Maybe it’s twisted to be brought together by the one man that both provides for them and steals from them. Maybe it’s twisted that he doesn’t even know this alpha’s name. But what Wooyoung does know is how much his omega pines for him, all logic aside. 

Together, they can reclaim the things they've lost.

“Yes please.”

The alpha kisses him. Then he peels himself away to rifle through one of the pockets of his cargo pants, ass kissing the moonlight.

Ah, Wooyoung thinks. That’s what all those pockets were for. 

This must also be why the alpha hadn’t been worried about wearing any gloves. He already knew where the night would go.

The alpha returns, lets Wooyoung do the honors, and gets back into position between the omega’s legs. 

He stretches him first, much to Wooyoung’s dismay, but he’s grateful when the alpha presses in and he’s reminded just how big alpha cocks tend to be. While the alpha waits for him to adjust, kissing his scent glands, Wooyoung can’t believe he’s lived without this. He didn’t know his sugar daddy didn’t plan on bedding him. The possibility of something physical was written into the contract, after all. But as time passed it never happened, and Wooyoung’s search for affection never panned out. Everyone knew who he appeared to belong to, even if appearances meant nothing. So eventually Wooyoung gave up. 

But now, clenching around thick cock and covered in caresses and licks and sweet alpha praise, Wooyoung isn’t sure if he can live without this again.

Then the alpha pulls out just to push back in and his mind empties.

He keeps it sweet like Wooyoung asked him to. Everything is blanketed with kisses and soft touches, gentle love bites and sucks, unhurried thrusts paired with soothing drags out. Wooyoung’s back arches all on it’s own, pulled taut by the tension in his gut and the tangled feelings in his chest.

For the first time, his bedroom smells like sex.

When Wooyoung digs his heels into the duvet to ground himself, his stilettos rip holes in the fabric. He doesn’t care. It’s stained anyway, with lipstick and slick and the reality of what’s happening here, of sleeping with a thief who might not, in the end, be the enemy after all.

When his release nears, Wooyoung tightens his thighs around the alpha’s hips to help the last snaps get harder, deeper, until each thrust pushes Wooyoung further into the pillows and he has to spare a hand to hold the top of the headboard. Two thrusts, four, and Wooyoung’s moaning out “Alpha,” while his thief cums just the same, filling the condom and knotting inside. 

They’re connected for ten minutes, and in that ten minutes they touch and admire all the planes that are pink and glistening in the moonlight. Especially Wooyoung, who didn’t have time to run his fingers through the divots in the alpha’s muscles before. Their kisses are good and they’re lazy and Wooyoung stops trying to justify. He deserves to feel.

When the knot goes down the alpha pulls out tenderly, sweetly, kissing Wooyoung four times, too many times, like a lover fresh to the throes. He finally goes into the next room after kissing the omega’s fingertips. Wooyoung watches him enter the bathroom and turn on the shower, asking no questions about how the fancy controls work. For a moment Wooyoung wonders if it’s because once he had controls like that of his own, or if it’s because he’s familiar with every inch of this apartment from months of breaking and entering. But it doesn’t matter. Wooyoung doesn’t care. Not when the alpha comes back to pick him up and gets stuck kissing him again, when he takes off jewelry then shoes and carries him into the hot steam of the shower, when he presses him to the wall and puts on a new condom and slips back inside, when he places slick, slick love bites along neck and collarbone. He doesn’t care about anything other than right here and right now when the alpha laces their fingers and swings his balls against Wooyoung’s thighs, when he sucks the first and only mark atop Wooyoung’s mating point. All the omega cares about is the moment he and the alpha shudder, together, again.

The alpha helps him clean the wall. Then he helps him wash his hair and his body, holding the omega when he gets too weak from the sex and the steam. 

Wooyoung doesn’t know what the alpha plans to do next. But as soon as they’re towel-dried and in the bedroom Wooyoung rips off the duvet, grateful they stayed on top of it and don’t have to change a full set of sheets. He takes the comforter the alpha already pulled out of the closet and tugs the man into bed alongside him. 

Wooyoung doesn’t know, but he finds it doesn’t really matter. Maybe he’ll stay the night and they’ll make breakfast together. Maybe he’ll nap for a while before waking up for round three. Or maybe he’ll let Wooyoung fall asleep on his shoulder before leaving to rob him blind. 

Wooyoung doesn’t know, and honestly, he doesn’t care.

His omega is happy that he finally, _finally_ , smells unguarded and clean.

He throws an arm and a leg over the alpha. They’re both purring, content.

\-----

When Wooyoung wakes up, he’s alone. 

He blinks at the room flooded with sunlight. The curtains had been left open last night as part of his plan to use the city illumination to film his thief. 

He rolls over, blinks at the emptiness, and sighs. 

In the corner of the room sits the balled up duvet, a cornucopia of evidence. Sobered, he tries to separate his true feelings from those of last night but finds they’re one and the same, even without the alpha on top of him.

Eventually, Wooyoung gains the mental fortitude to steel himself for discovering an entire wardrobe of looted items. He needn’t have that looked far though. As soon as he re-emerges from the closet, finding nothing amiss, he notices an oddity on his makeup desk. Earlier it had been blocked by the chair.

There’s a yellow sticky note from Wooyoung’s office, and a pen. 

The note says, “Tuesday,” followed by a dash like he was about to write his name, his initial, his favorite pseudonym, but there’s nothing. Just a date and a promise and Wooyoung’s change of heart.

One lone ruby ring sits atop it. 

One ring of a pair.

\-----

**Rubicon**  
Ru·bi·con | _\ ˈrü-bi-ˌkän \_  
: a bounding or limiting line  
_especially_ : one that, when crossed, commits a person irrevocably

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Let me know in the comments!
> 
> [@Wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan)


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